


three more years of obeying authority

by candydrop



Category: Kamen Rider OOO
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Human, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-01-10
Updated: 2012-07-02
Packaged: 2017-10-29 07:29:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/317306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/candydrop/pseuds/candydrop
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a high school in the Yumemi District, model student Hina and Good Samaritan Eiji spread sunshine over campus in their pursuit to cajole delinquent Ankh into coming to class. Happy birthday to a new school year, indeed.</p><p>It's funny how high school works, really.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. school is a load of bull

**Author's Note:**

> Drabbles were inspired by a conversation with Jay (tangerinefox). The title of the song was taken from I Set My Friends On Fire's "Four Years Foreplay."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the first day of school, Eiji's help turns out not to help at all and Gotou gets second-hand embarrassment from Principal Kougami. It's the start of a WONDERFUL year!

School is an opportunity that had both benefits and risks.

Since Hina's parents died, all she had left was her older brother, Shingo. He took care of her, watched out for her, and tried to take time off his busy schedule to spend time with her. Alas, a detective's salary was barely enough to help them manage.

It took time for her to realize it at first, but Hina notices that she is doing little to help contribute to the family. Every time Shingo calls her at night alerting her of overtime or comes home tired, she feels a prick in her heart. He says it's no big deal, but the bags under his eyes tell her that he feels the pressure to work hard for the both of them.

Hina regrets and scolds herself for always indulging in her own selfish needs instead of realizing what he is sacrificing for her. She can't resist the idea of Shingo sacrificing his body just to pay her tuition. She has contemplated getting a job after graduating middle school, but he silences her with a warm smile and gently admonishes her for worrying about something so "petty."

 _He wouldn't be happy if she couldn't make her dreams come true like he did_. Just with these simple words, Hina can tell how much her brother loves her and how devoted he is into scaffolding the steps she needs to take to reach her dreams. Touched, she agrees.

Hina feels partially guilty that Shingo let her apply to Ouzu High School, an expensive high school in the Yumemi District. She's at least thankful that her part-time job and her class standing has supplied some financial benefits to lessen the burden on him, but she tells herself not to inflate her ego and let Shingo's efforts go to waste.

The moment Hina steps out her brother's car when he drops her off at the entrance, she puts on a dazzling smile and reminds herself that she is lucky to have an understanding sibling and the opportunity to even attend school. It would be good, she muses, if people like her realize they are lucky, too, and shouldn't lightly take happiness for granted.

 

* * *

 

School is part of the journey in life.

Eiji enjoys school and thrills in its environment of learning. He believes his passion of wanting to help others comes from his experiences in learning and helping others to learn. He's realized that he gives more than he takes, but it's simply because he hasn't specifically found anything people can help him with. There isn't anything he's proud of being good at, but he thinks he's getting there. School, after all, is part of the journey in life.

On this particular first day of the new school year, the one time Eiji steps in to help results in a bloody nose. He's in the quad looking up class rosters when he hears a loud argument from afar. Turning his head towards the source of the disturbance, he sees a tall boy with dyed blond hair growling at his stockier counterpart. Neither of them have any respect for the school dress codes, and both looked dangerous—the blond boy especially. Eiji realizes that a lot of students were probably thinking the same thing because he can hear them echo his thoughts in quiet whispers.

" _What the hell did he tell you?_ " snarls the blond, eyes narrowing into a glare.

"Can't forgive you," recites the other in a robotic murmur. "Ankh hurt Mezool. Kazari told Gamel. Gamel can't forgive!"

"Tch," the blond tuts angrily, shooting his furious stare at the ground before focusing on the boy in front of him again. "What kind of dumbass would believe in anything Kazari says?" he demands with a slight sneer. "You'd think the number of times he's lied to you, you've figured out how his psychopathic mind works by now."

"Gamel won't forgive you!" trumpets the blond's opponent, and he leaps forward to tackle his offender into the ground.

Eiji has seen too many fights in his lifetime to know how this is going to end up. He notices that the noise is drawing attention from many of the other students and decides on impulse that he should step in before the faculty realizes what is happening. The moment he does, the blond boy swings a fist towards his face, causing his nose to erupt in a splash of blood as he catapults backwards. One minute later, the fight is halted by the school officials and Eiji is sent to the nurse's office.

He comes back to attend the opening ceremony with a bag of ice, tissues, and shame. When he steps into the room, he can feel the eyes of everyone in the auditorium trace his every move as if saying, _oh, look, it's that loser who thought he could help everyone but ended up looking completely lame_.

In that very moment, he comes to the conclusion that he really hasn't learned anything throughout his years of schooling. Forget figuring out his purpose in life, there's no point in discovering what he's good at when he's virtually _useless_ at _everything_. With cheeks flushed in embarrassment, Eiji quietly spots an empty chair where his class was supposedly located. His seat was next to a girl, who looks up at him wordlessly with wide eyes when he approaches her. In response, Eiji lightly bows apologetically in her presence before taking his seat, instinctively pressing the bag of ice against his face as though it would stop his face from burning up in shame.

"I saw what you did back there." The words were soft, but Eiji heard them. He looks to his right and sees the girl next to him glancing in his direction again. Unlike the other students in the room, there was something gentle about her stare, and had a twinkle of... admiration?

Eiji blinks and looks away, forcing a shy chuckle. "Yeah, it was pretty stupid, wasn't it?" he says, hoping his grin would lighten up the tension.

To his surprise, she shakes her head. " _No_ ," she corrects him. "It wasn't stupid at all. It was _brave_."

Eiji's eyes instinctively wander to meet the girl's own, and he understands that she's not lying. It's a wonder with what kind words can do to his soul. He finds himself at loss of words to articulate his response to her, but she only smiles softly at him.

"My name is Izumi, Hina Izumi. What's yours?"

 

* * *

 

School is a load of bull.

This was a motto of life Ankh religiously abided by since he was considered old enough to attend school. School did nothing to prepare one for survival on the streets, did not teach the basics of growth, and had nothing to provide in regards to real-life applications. There was no point in studying when none of that did any good, anyway.

Ankh decides to skip the school opening ceremony by retreating to his favorite spot on the school's rooftop. To hell with everything.

 

* * *

 

Hundreds of eyes follow Principal Kougami as he leads the opening ceremony with one of his eccentric, gallant speeches. To anyone, they would insist that the students were fervently enraptured in the passion the principal held for the school. Gotou, however, can state otherwise.

"A new school year brings another advent of learning new ideas about the world that surrounds us." The principal drops his raised hands as he paces across the stage. "Here at Ouzu High School, _you_ —" he suddenly stops and points at the student body before withdrawing his arm slowly in a curled fist "—will be the ones who will experience something _new_. Something... _WONDERFUL_!" He throws up his hands in emphasis.

There was a pause, and Gotou knows he heard some snickers. Principal Kougami continues as if he didn't notice (Gotou suspects that he probably didn't). "Ouzu stands for the _harbor_ (zu) of _kings_ (ou), where our education is ferried to the privileged." The principal reclaims his place behind the podium. "We duly hope to satisfy your _desire_ towards the _evolution_ of your knowledge." His fingers move against the podium restlessly, ready to make their next over-the-top gesticulation.

 _Here it comes_ , thinks Gotou dryly.

As if on cue, Principal Kougami throws his arms wide open and bellows into the microphone, " _HAPPY BIRRRRRTHDAY_... TO THE COMING OF ANOTHER SCHOOL YEAR!" The room erupts in a loud clamor of applause.

There are times when Gotou feels as though the principal isn't taking himself very seriously, because from behind the curtains, he can hear unrestrained laughter from the students. He can't blame them because it's easy to get distracted by the undulating pace of Principal Kougami's speech. After further contemplation, he thinks it's best to rationalize his rather unique delivery as a "passionate performance."

Gotou straightens his tie and steps up onto the stage to deliver his speech, immediately settling the room into a hush (save for some excited gasps from some of the girls). As the class representative, it was his duty to make sure his fellow peers took education as seriously as he did. The principal might have unknowingly left a hideous scar on the reputation of the school, but he would never.


	2. things to stuff your bra with

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hina makes her first female friend, Date has some bonding with his favorite teacher in the world, and Mezool hasn't hit puberty yet. Good times.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In Japanese, both a doctor and a teacher can be addressed as "sensei" but I decided to leave Maki as "Dr. Maki" because it just feels really weird to type "Mr. Maki."

Anyone on campus would consider Dr. Maki to be remotely creepy. Anyone except Akira Date, who paid no heed to the rampant rumors of Dr. Maki having a record of molestation and attempted murder. In fact, to Date, Dr. Maki was his favorite teacher, and whenever he wasn't volunteering to help out other sports clubs, he would often stop by the teachers' lounge to talk to him.

"Yo, Dr. _MAHHHH-keeee_!" howls Date from behind in his best Kougami impression. The bespectacled man is startled at his sudden appearance, for he almost drops the dead-eyed doll on his shoulder.

"D- _Date_ ," Maki stutters darkly, unamused as far as his deadpan voice would express. He does not bother to face him properly.

Date laughs cheerfully and slaps Maki over the shoulder. "Looks like I scared you there, didn't I?" he chuckles apologetically. "My bad, man."

"What is it _now_ , Date," asks Maki unenthusiastically, upset to the point he does not care his question sounded more like a statement.

"Nothing!" Date answers with a wide grin. "Just checkin' up to see how you're doing, Dr. Maki! You're my _favorite_ teacher!"

 _He's oblivious as always_ , Maki notes mournfully, and does all he can to force his stare at anything but his least favorite student. "I really wish you would spend more time thinking about your future," he confesses monotonously, distracting himself with repositioning the doll more comfortably on his shoulder. "You are always running about doing nothing you can benefit from."

The senior only shrugs. "Oh, you're talking about me not joining any clubs?" he asks calmly, hoisting himself onto Maki's desk.

" _Please get off my desk_ ," grumbles Maki, grinding his teeth.

"Oops, sorry." Date swings himself off as Maki throws his body over the surface protectively. The teacher carefully regains his composure and clears his throat, his usually emotionless facade taking over.

"It is your final year," Maki points out. "I suggest you start taking your studies and extracurricular activities seriously. Just because you score high on your tests, it does not give you the obligation to slack off. Furthermore, there is no point participating in any of the clubs when you won't even join them."

"Awww, Teach, I was just—"

" _Listen_ to me, Date. No matter how much effort you waste, you do little to hone your true potential. It is good to make the most out of your high school education and end it while it is beautiful." Maki ends his lecture in a wistful sigh.

Date oohs excitedly and claps his hands. "I dunno what you mean about ending it beautifully, but that was _so deep_ , man!" A wide grin stretches across his face, and Maki finds it unnerving for some unfathomable reason. "Thanks for the help!" The boy salutes and turns around to leave, but not before accidentally knocking the bald doll off of his teacher's shoulder, plummeting it to the ground. In a flash, Maki is on all fours, crying in high-pitched squeaks at the injuries his companion suffered.

If there was any reason why Dr. Maki would enter insanity, it probably isn't because he was horribly abused as a child. It most likely isn't because his sister died at his hands.

It is because of Akira Date.

 

* * *

 

Hina thinks that it is a good idea that Ms. Shiraishi is her homeroom teacher. She is friendly, passionate, and makes the atmosphere a perfect environment for learning. Eiji perks up a little when the teacher mentions that her favorite subject is history, and that puts Hina at ease because she knows that he will feel less nervous in class. She's still a little disappointed that he isn't sitting near her, because it would have made her feel more comfortable if a friend she knows is nearby. For now, she will have to make-do with the people sitting near her.

The desk behind her is suspiciously unoccupied, and Ms. Shiraishi has announced that some student by the name of Ankh sits there. He (or she) has been absent for the past few days, so Hina glances to her right. Her eyes fall on a beautiful girl engrossed in her textbook. As she subtly scans the room, she discovers she's not the only one starstruck at her beauty, for her drop-dead gorgeous neighbor has captured the hungry stares of many of the boys.

"You need something?"

Hina blinks and realizes that the girl is talking to her. She looks down at her notebook for the perfect words to change an awkward moment into a normal conversation. "Um, do you know how to do problem #5?" she says, biting her lip nervously.

The girl picks up her notebook and shows it to her. "That one's hard," she comments, "but I figured out how to do it. Here."

Hina briefly compares the notes. "Oh!" she exclaims, comprehension dawning on her. "Thank you, um....?"

"Satonaka," the girl fills in. She smiles half-heartedly. "I'm Erika Satonaka. Nice to meet you."

The idea of making another friend fills Hina with happiness. She returns her smile with a happy nod. "Nice to meet you too!"

Around the room, Satonaka's admirers swoon upon hearing their idol speak her name, and for a moment, they are completely jealous of Hina. Fortunately, she remains blissfully unaware of this.

 

* * *

 

The school chimes that signal for when the day has ended has become Satonaka's off switch. The moment she hears the familiar _ding dong ding dong_ , she abruptly dumps her books into her satchel and prepares to leave. It's a perfectly normal routine for her, and there is no reason why she should outstay her welcome. There are better things she needs to do.

"Satonaka?" pipes up a voice from a neighboring desk. Its owner was Hina Izumi, who sat to her left.

Satonaka briefly glances in his direction, brushing her long hair behind an ear. "Yes?" she asks absently, hoping that the conversation would take less than a minute of her time.

Hina alternates her glances between her notebook and Satonaka's face. "I couldn't figure out one of the problems here," she admits sheepishly between her stammers.

"Oh," was all Satonaka could say, and it does not stop her from placing her pencil case into her bag.

Hina brings her hopeful stare directly to her eyes. "I was wondering if you could help me?" she requests humbly, a gracious smile perking at the corner of her lips.

Dismissing her call for help, Satonaka simply shrugs and rises from her seat. "School's over," she answers briskly. "It's not like it matters now." She makes her way through the hustle and bustle of other students towards the exit without even waiting for Hina's response.

 _"Satonaka!"_

She is halfway down the hall when someone else calls her name, shrill and impolite. Annoyed, she spins around, only to find an irritated Gotou impatiently sticking half of his own body outside of the door frame of their classroom. "What is it, Gotou?" she asks exasperatedly.

Gotou rewards her with a look of disappointment and points at the blackboard inside of the room. "There's a committee meeting this afternoon," he points out as-a-matter-of-factly. Sure enough, Satonaka finds the reminder written on one of the corners.

 _"And?"_ she presses monotonously.

Her answer makes Gotou fume and bite back an insult, and he's trying to hold in his composure to make sure he handles this situation maturely. "We _don't_ have _time_ for this," he snaps curtly, searching for the words to express his increased frustration. "You've been skipping every single meeting since the semester started. I don't see any reason why you should be a class monitor if you can't even do this."

Satonaka doesn't quite remember when she was assigned to become one of the class monitors (it seems hazy in her memories), but it isn't something she can back out of easily, especially if she could benefit from the class and the faculty's approval. On the other hand, Gotou _is_ capable of handling the work on his own, and even if she didn't do anything, he would. The ends justify the means, obviously. In regards to her conclusion, she begins to take another step away from the classroom when Gotou hurriedly yells, "I'll _pay_ you!"

Surprised, Satonaka stops short, one eyebrow arched. "Excuse me?" she questions, wondering if she was hearing things.

"I'll pay you," Gotou repeats, his earnest expression reflecting how serious he was about the proposal. "If that's what it will take for you to come, then I'll pay you."

Where money is involved, Satonaka is willing, and whatever Gotou was offering might be enough to get her a hair accessory matching that dress she has been eying in her magazine. She studies his determined face and sees his ears reddening in shame for resorting to bribery. The cool, proud exterior that made Gotou popular with the girls has been replaced with an expression that is both embarrassed and mortified at his tactics. She can sense how desperate he is for a partner, and how he finds her the only one in the class suitable for the role. In all honesty, he is _such_ an easy person to read.

"Deal," Satonaka responds smoothly, and glides past him. "See you at the meeting."

This certainly put a dent into her shopping plans. Buying that new LIZ LISA one-piece would have to wait.

 

* * *

 

The meeting, Satonaka feels, took forever, and naturally, she was the first one to leave once it ended. Gotou must have shared similar sentiments, because he seemed more than happy to let her free and was satisfied she filled her responsibility quota for the day. She makes a bee-line for exit door for the east wing when she sees Mezool and Gamel sitting outside. Gamel is content resting his head on Mezool's arm and is occupied with blowing bubbles from his gum.

 _Ugh, delinquents,_ is Satonaka's first thought, and she quickly shifts her line of vision away. As she continues to head for the school gates, Mezool eventually catches up, Gamel steadily toddling behind her. She's probably noticed her looking at them before and is returning her glance with a cold glare.

"Just what kind of look did you give us?" the young girl purrs, cocking her hip to the side. Satonaka finds her as intimidating as a goldfish, though her icy stare would say otherwise. "Did you _think_ we don't know what you're thinking when you give us that kind of glance?"

"I don't understand what you mean," Satonaka defends herself acerbically. "I don't have time for this right now."

Mezool's face warps into an ugly expression of disdain. "How impolite of you," she retorts scornfully. "First, you look down on us, and then you reject our company. We can see what you're really like. Is this how you should set an example?"

Satonaka only rolls her eyes, hardly intimidated by the female Greeed. "If you're looking to be mature, you have a long way to go. Mentally and physically. I have no interest in talking to _little girls_." She eyes her figure up-and-down for emphasis.

That comment seemed to strike a nerve, because Mezool is clearly livid now, covering her front self-consciously. As Gamel blows another bubble, she rips the confection from his mouth and stabs it into Satonaka's chest, catching a good number of strands of her shining hair. From behind Mezool, Satonaka can hear Gamel clapping his hands and cheering wildly at his friend's comeback.

It's evident that Mezool is just as satisfied with her victory as much as she is confident with her underdeveloped body, but it's the most she can do for now. " _Au contraire_ , young lady," she hisses, "here's a little _something_ in case you run out of things to stuff your bra with." She turns on her heel and marches away as Gamel follows, making taunting neener-neener faces at Satonaka.

 

* * *

 

Satonaka spends nearly half an hour in the bathroom trying to get rid of the gum Mezool stuck on her. It's a daunting task, and she can't help but feel compelled to throw up realizing that it had once been in Gamel's mouth. Her long hair, which she had been so proud of, is ruined, and while she does not need to cut her hair super short, it would look really weird if those strands were simply cut off.

"Satonaka?"

A soft voice draws Satonaka's attention away from her blouse and towards the door. Hina is standing at the door, concerned.

"Izumi—"

"Satonaka, what happened?" Hina rushes to her side the moment she sees the gum stuck in her hair.

Satonaka shrugs. "It's nothing. By the way, why are you here, Izumi?"

Hina draws a mini-towel from her pocket and wets it with warm water from the sink. "I'm waiting for my brother," she answers while applying the damp cloth to Satonaka. "He said he was going to pick me up today."

The other girl unsuccessfully tries to brush off her advances. "Izumi, you don't need to do this—"

"It's okay. I'm doing this because you're my friend, Satonaka." Hina smiles modestly. Satonaka has no other words to protest, so she continues to scrub off the gum.

After a couple of minutes, Hina sighs in defeat. "I'm sorry, Satonaka," she apologizes glumly. "I couldn't get the gum off. It looks like you might need to get your hair cut after all..."

In spite of all of her indifference, Satonaka decides to cheer Hina up, unable to bear any more of her gloom. It is the least she could do for someone who helped her. "No big deal," Satonaka chirps nonchalantly. "Hair always grows back, and plus, there's this new style I've been meaning to go for..."

Hina's gloom is suddenly replaced with an optimistic gleam. "Which style are you going for?"

Satonaka's eyes trail to the ceiling and she finds herself babbling her thoughts. She doesn't remember speaking to anyone this much, especially where fashion is involved. "I was thinking something with a fringe and fluffy layers. You know, something that'd look good regardless of whether I curl or straighten my hair."

" _Really?_ Are you going to cut it really short? I think a pixie cut would look good on you."

"There's also that bob cut that's in style these days. You think it suits me?"

"Definitely! I think you'd look _wonderful_ in it, Satonaka!"

And that is the tale of how Hina made her first female friend, with similar interests, to boot.


	3. go fuck off and play in traffic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For an observant teacher, there are a lot of things Ms. Shiraishi doesn't notice. It's okay, because Ankh will be up on his feet in no time!

Eiji makes an enemy in his class, and it isn't even his fault.

He thinks it started when Ms. Shiraishi somehow got into the topic about political conflicts around the world, and it erupted into a discussion about greed and power led by Shintarou Gotou, the class representative. All of this had made his stomach churn, so when he decided to add his own input, he concluded that it is a matter of different perspectives. It doesn't dawn on him on how his philosophical and anthropological comment compares to the other remarks made by his peers until Ms. Shiraishi excitedly claps in approval, causing many eyes to turn towards him. One set of the eyes belonged to Gotou, whose mouth was in a tight line. He refused to look at him for the rest of the day.

Ever since that incident, Eiji has a feeling that Gotou doesn't like him. He tells Hina this much, but she thinks he's overreacting because Gotou is like this to everyone. He'd like to agree, but he can't seem to ignore the notion that there seems to be a dagger in Gotou's piercing stare that's absent when he looks at anyone else.

 

* * *

 

Satonaka's spat with Mezool actually makes her more popular than ever. All eyes are locked on her when she makes her grand entrance the next morning, sporting a stylish hairdo that the rest of the girls in school will probably copy within the rest of the year. Even Gotou has to admit that she looks positively stunning and attractive with her new appearance. In contrast to the rest of the population, only Hina is looking back at her with a knowing smile and proud eyes.

It surprises Hina when Satonaka decides to have lunch with her and Eiji, because most of the time, she's in the bathroom primping and redoing her make-up. Eiji is just as equally stunned, especially when Satonaka suddenly addresses Hina by her first name, a sign of familiarity that only he had been using up until now. It's become universally accepted that Hina and Satonaka are best friends, and Hina herself only realizes this when Gotou starts approaching her more often to _please make sure Satonaka starts taking her workload more seriously, Izumi_.

"Hina," she corrects him.

"Huh?" Gotou looks puzzled.

"You can call me Hina, Class President," Hina clarifies. "Everyone does, anyway."

"All right... Hina," says Gotou slowly, tasting new words of friendship. He nods politely and sets off, and Hina finds it silly for Eiji to even consider that Gotou doesn't like him for a second. He's actually a very nice person.

 

* * *

 

To others, Uva is a kleptomaniac who just can't keep his hands to himself. On the other hand, Uva prefers to see himself as an "economizer" and justifies his deeds as making the most of his resources, if being resourceful meant going around stealing pencils and paper so he doesn't need to buy his own. Stealing school supplies, however, was for wimps and he aims for the worthwhile goods, such as lunch money and homework. It's gotten him in trouble, but he thinks it pays off, especially since he's amassed enough money to buy a new video game he had been coveting for the past year or so.

When Uva is sent to the teachers' office to have a long discussion after an _anonymous_ student reported him for stealing from them (it's totally that douchebag sitting in front of him, no doubt), he sets his eyes on his next target as Ms. Shiraishi shuffles her folders: the answers to the next exam. The Holy Grail of all academic endeavors and the cure to academic cancer — it would be stupid to _not_ get his hands on it. He nods as Ms. Shiraishi makes him promise not to bully other students or she'll have to discuss this with his parents and she doesn't want to do that because she knows he's a diamond in the rough and everything blah blah blah yeah whatever you desire lady he's not listening and those test answers are going to be _his_ , bitch.

It had taken a lot of luck, good timing, and a good deal of sucking up before Uva was able to access Ms. Shiraishi's desk when no one was looking. Fortunately, it all paid off, and he is now poised comfortably in his chair with the goods on his desk. He begins leafing through each page, ingraining each detail into his memory. So focused was he that he did not realize his on-and-off buddy, Kazari, is walking around him, his jewelry jingling and suspicion written over his face.

"What's that?" he chirps, casually taking a seat on the desk right of Uva. The chains looping around his belt swish.

"These are the answers for next week's test," answers Uva triumphantly in a smug voice. Before he knows it, he continues to babble confidently about his success, unable to keep his victory to himself like his hands. "Shiraishi doesn't know what's coming to her. She's so easy to fool. It's almost like talking to Gamel."

"Oh?" drones the other boy in response. Despite his attempts to mask his interest, Uva can tell that he at least wants a peek too, and his predictions are right when Kazari leans over his shoulder, hands open to swipe the papers away from him.

"Nope!" Uva quickly turns the sheets over so the blank backsides face Kazari. "It's too much effort for me to get these notes to start sharing them with others," he adds tauntingly. "You probably don't need them anyway since you're practically _dating_ Shiraishi."

Kazari lowers his hands in silence. His face is unreadable, but the slightest twitch from the corners of his mouth indicate that he's ticked off. Uva can't help but smile proudly when his neighbor gets up from the desk and stalks off without so much of a goodbye.

"Looks like you made him mad," Mezool pipes up. She's still bitter after seeing the acclaim Satonaka has received on her new look, and plunges her fork into her lunch box, spearing a poorly sculpted octopus weiner.

"Whatever." Uva shrugs. "After the whole thing with Ankh, he's been crabby."

"Those two are stupid," Mezool comments, smile off her face. "They're fighting over nothing. Such _children_ indeed." She glances at Gamel's peaceful face as she said "children." He is, as usual, cuddling her arm in a state of bliss. Mezool daintily holds her fork in front of him, and he happily bites the food off the utensil, elliciting loud noises of content. She smiles politely as an unattentive mother would with her talkative child.

"As if you're not a kid yourself," Uva mumbles to himself, but she hears his off-hand remark, stiffening in irritation as she glares at him. She's about to retort, but he slides out of his chair, marches over to her, and nimbly steals an octopus weiner before her fork is able to reach it. Before she can say anything about it, Uva drops the food into his mouth carelessly. The color drains from Mezool's face, and for once she is speechless, unable to decide whether she should express anger or shock.

Gamel is in a similar state of surprise, his mouth left hanging open as he watches Uva chew thoughtfully. Unlike Mezool, he recovers quickly and begins pawing at Uva, whining, "Gamel's octopus weiner! That was Gamel's! Uva, give it back!"

Uva swallows, taking pleasure at Gamel and Mezool's helplessness. They, like Kazari, were such fools themselves. It'd be rather _difficult_ to stay around them to read his notes, so he decides to take his "studying" up on the roof. He strides off with a wave, not bothering to turn to face them. "See you guys after lunch."

Before Uva can reach the door, he suddenly finds himself face-to-face with the dead-eyed doll resting on the shoulder of Dr. Maki, the teacher of one of the third-year classes. Maki obviously seems to be looking for him, because he certainly isn't searching the room for other suspects. Maybe it's his routine of regularly creeping up on students with headbands and docile, motherly smiles, but nevertheless, it's unnerving even for a guy like him. At the same time, it's making him a little confused. _What_ could he want with him...?

Upon contemplating this, Uva must have shown his contempt for the teacher rumored to have set a girl on fire, because Maki is eying him cautiously. He swallows, hoping that he isn't planning on making him his next victim.

"What is it?" asks Uva, albeit rather rudely.

Maki doesn't flinch. "A student has tipped me off that you have been stealing _yet again_ ," he speaks monotonously, but nevertheless _completely_ no-nonsense. "You will come with me to the disciplinary office _immediately_. Ms. Shiraishi and the principal will be notified of your actions."

From behind him, Uva can see Kazari smiling devilishly, and the identity of the "student" suddenly becomes clear as _fucking crystal filtered water_. Of _course_ Kazari would do this, and even get _Dr. Rapist Maki_ in on it, too. Actually, now to think of it, he might have been the one who snitched to Shiraishi about the other times he's been swiping things...

"You— _Kazari_ —" Uva begins to growl, but Maki tilts his chin in the direction of the disciplinary office.

"Disciplinary office. _Now_." The authoritative tone in Maki's deep voice shows that he is not joking. He steps behind Uva to ensure that he is in his sight ( _oh, God, he better not be staring at his butt_ ), and ushers the boy down the hallway. Before walking away, Uva glances back to see Kazari with that stupid-ass grin still on his face. He'd like to see if he would still be smiling once he tears his mouth off his face when he comes back from the office.

* * *

If there is a student any member of Ouzu's faculty can name as their favorite, it would be Kazari.

Ms. Shiraishi thinks Kazari is a blessing in disguise. Whenever she sees him in the hallway during breaktime, he is quick to acknowledge her presence with a greeting and a charming smile. He does his homework diligently, never stirs up trouble, and overall is friendly. It's hard for her to imagine anyone hating him, and occasionally, she doesn't understand why some of the students in the classroom never talk to him.

The only problem completing Kazari's image of being a perfect teacher's pet lies in the fact that he usually breaks the school dress codes. He has an eye for fashion, and isn't afraid to go all out with it. Every day, he walks into class with bleached hair, adorns his wrists with bangles, dons chains over his belts, and encrusts his ears with gaudy earrings. It's almost as if he walked out of the latest issue of _Kera_.

One week after Uva is suspended from school for stealing from the teacher's office, Ms. Shiraishi decides to confront her student with the possibility of theft. When she calls him into the office to suggest that _maybe he should take off his jewelry_ and that _it would be a shame if he lost something or got in trouble for breaking school regulations_ , Kazari suddenly bursts into tears.

"I can't do that, Ms. Shiraishi," he blubbers, squeezing big, fat crystal tears from his innocent eyes. "I just can't." He raises his blotchy face to look at her. "I thought you would understand."

Instantly, Ms. Shiraishi feels a wave of pity and gently places her hands on her student's shoulders. "Why not? What's going on?"

Kazari hides his face behind his thin fingers, some of which were decorated with ornate rings of different shapes and sizes. "I really shouldn't be telling you," he confesses tearfully, "but my religion requires us to dress like this. I'm sorry if I'm not following the rules, but I honestly don't have a choice." He chokes out another sob, and it stings Ms. Shiraishi's heart painfully. It's completely her fault, she understands, because she should have been aware of any cultural differences her students may have. The failure crushes her competency and she feels guilty. It feels as though she kicked a wounded kitten.

A wave of regret washes over Ms. Shiraishi and it genuinely makes her wish she had never brought up the conversation. On the other hand, she is glad that she is able to connect with Kazari and understand him as a teacher. "Which religion is it?" she asks softly.

"It's a fairly uncommon religion practiced in South Asia," Kazari explains. "We wear jewelry to guard ourselves from evil spirits and to purify our souls. We have strict rules, so I can't really tell you all the details. I'm sorry." He bows apologetically.

"Are you sure it's not a cult?" Maki cuts in. He's busy straightening his doll's collar ever since Date thought it was a good idea to place a banana sticker on it. He sounds apathetic, but there's an undertone of suspicion in his voice. This makes Kazari cry harder, and Ms. Shiraishi follows up with a disapproving glare for eavesdropping on their conversation. Fortunately, Maki can read cues and does not say anything more.

Ms. Shiraishi turns back to Kazari, whose voice is wavering pleadingly. "You trust me, right?" he says pitifully. "I've always attended class like I'm supposed to. I've always kept up my grades, and I've never gotten into fights with anyone."

His teacher shakes her head. "Don't worry about it," she says soothingly. "I'm glad you told me about this. I'll be sure to talk to the principal about this to make sure he'll give you an exception, but I'll try to keep it a secret, okay?"

 _"R-Really?"_ Kazari gazes at her hopefully, momentarily forgetting his red, tear-stained cheeks. He is so wide-eyed in surprise that for a moment, Ms. Shiraishi forgets that he is no longer a child.

The teacher nods enthusiastically. "It's my duty as your teacher, after all. Leave it to me!"

Kazari begins crying again, but this time it's in relief. "Thank you very much!" he practically yells in appreciation, sweeping a formal bow.

Ms. Shiraishi laughs and gives him a gentle pat on his shoulder. "But!" she adds, the grin on her face reaching her eyes. "If you are comfortable with discussing your religion with me, come by and chat whenever you want! I'm curious and interested in these customs." She winks, and Kazari finds himself smiling. Ms. Shiraishi decides that he is more angelic when he is happy.

As Kazari leaves the teacher's office, there's a special glow on Ms. Shiraishi's face. She feels she's done the right thing and has made her student proud. It's nice to develop a relationship of trust and respect between teachers and students, after all. As she hums ecstatically to herself, she doesn't realize that maybe Kazari might be on a different wavelength than her, because she certainly never spotted the bottle of eyedrops in his pocket or his catty sneer when he is halfway down the hallway. She probably isn't even aware that she basically gave him a free exemption from dress codes for the rest of his academic career.

 

* * *

 

Following the incident with Kazari, Ms. Shiraishi decides that it's time to do something about Ankh. He hasn't appeared in class since the first day of school, and it would be a shame if he missed out on the enriching, cultural experience of education. She's sent phone calls home, and her visit to his apartment results in him screeching at her to go fuck off and play in traffic. It's left her pulse quaking and wondering what she had done to deserve this onslaught of endless rage.

Ms. Shiraishi deduces that perhaps Ankh isn't particularly trusting of adult figures, especially since his clothes, manner of speech, and the grinding, thrashing dissonance from the headphones around his neck screamed his opposition against social authority. Maybe he would be more willing if people his age would come pay him a visit, and it might give him an opportunity to make some new friends. It's not an easy task, but Ms. Shiraishi rallies up Gotou and enlists him to come with her to Ankh's apartment. He's a little hesitant, but when she mentions that Satonaka can accompany him, he looks mildly relieved.

The weekend rolls by and Hina ends up coming instead of Satonaka. Both Gotou and Hina insist that it's because Satonaka is busy, if being busy meant that she is at home giving herself a facial and refusing to do anything she considers "outside of the contract you made with me, Gotou." Eiji is conveniently coming for the ride only because he and Hina were supposed to hang out today, though there's a hint of scorn in the way Gotou talks about it.

Nevertheless, Ms. Shiraishi is happy with the turnout. The more, the better.


	4. another day wasted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ice and fire don't mix. Ankh and Gotou are living proof of that.

Ms. Shiraishi and Eiji seem to be getting along at the least, as the initially uncomfortable journey to Ankh's apartment becomes filled with lively conversations about traveling to third-world countries. It's not like Eiji to become so passionate talking about his adventures, but he finds himself with so many stories on the tip of his tongue that he'd like to share — he'd be more obliged to if he hadn't the feeling that Gotou seems to have some sort of murderous vibe around him every time Ms. Shiraishi pays attention to him. Every now and then, when he'd crack a weak joke, he'd steal a glance at the class president for any semblance of a reaction — maybe a smile, a chuckle, or a wrinkle in his nose in disgust. But Gotou's face remains unreadable, and the fact that he doesn't so much as acknowledge Eiji's presence chills his nerves numb. It's like he's daring him to make him angry, using a passive aggressive taunt with the sharp glare in his eyes akin to an assassin brandishing his most prized knife.

When the group finally reaches destination, Gotou abruptly cuts into Eiji's talk by advising that Ms. Shiraishi should stay away from the entrance since her last stint with Ankh didn't end so well. She thinks it's a good idea, and Eiji gulps. He'd like to insist she come and try again, but Gotou is right and there is no arguing against Gotou and his shut-up stare. So, it's just them up to Ankh's room while Ms. Shiraishi stays with the guard at the gates, just like any old story where the sagely mentor abandons the alleged newly experienced heroes on the final stretch on their adventure. Off you go, Frodo Baggins, while Gandalf parties it out elsewhere. May the force be with you, or whatever that means.

The point of no return.

While Eiji doesn't feel the slightest bit comfortable, he at least is glad that Hina is coming along with them, because Gotou ignores him every time he tries to start up a conversation with him. But even Hina seems tense, because throughout the trip, she has a hand gripping on the elbow of Eiji's sleeve, wrinkling the cloth within a taut fist. When she tugs the shirt gently, Eiji briefly catches her eyes when he glances at her. He smiles reassuringly, and she tentatively returns it.

Eiji can tell that all three of them are nervous, and there's so much tension that it's palpable. Maybe Gotou is scared too, because none of them know who this Ankh kid was other than hearing about him being some sort of "delinquent." Actually, Ms. Shiraishi might have been the one who got off lucky, even. Maybe Ankh's the type of crude, ruthless rebel who thrives on bloodshed for a living, the kind of vulture that picks at the remains of his prey.

Up and up each floor they go. Each step on the endless road feels nerve-wracking, and there's some sort of dread attached to the slow-killing suspense building up every second. Once they reach the correct room, there's a little hesitation, as the three of them gather their composure. They all unanimously agree in silence that Gotou should be the one who rings the doorbell and speak first, since he is the class representative. So he does.

There's silence.

"Let's try again," suggests Hina. Gotou nods, reticent, and he presses the doorbell again.

No one's home, at least, that's the message the door is giving. After a few more minutes of silence, Eiji shrugs. "We should probably get back," he advises reluctantly, but quiets down when Gotou turns to him, eyes stubbornly sharp in disagreement.

"We've come all this way," he insists impatiently. "Given his record of truancy, there's a likely chance that he could be pretending." He stabs his finger at the doorbell in repugnance while Eiji winces.

"I just don't think we should be this persistent," Eiji says slowly, watching Gotou pace the front door with his arms crossed. "We're practically solliciting, and—" he looks behind him "—we might be bothering the other residents here."

"We have permission to be here," Gotou responds curtly. "It's not like we're doing anything wrong."

"Pres, Eiji might have a point," pipes up Hina as she folds her hands nervously. "It's going to be a waste if Ankh isn't home anyway."

Gotou sighs and looks away, still pacing the area with the loyalty of a dog and the grace of a swan. Nevertheless, the tension in his shoulders tells Eiji that he's slowly finding some reason in Hina's words. After giving the doorbell one last press, he finally gives up when there is still no response. "Let's go back," he mumbles, turning towards the stairs without any hesitation. He's probably relieved that the worst is over.

There is a squawk coming from down below that cuts into the air like a knife. Out of nowhere, a new voice, colored with profanity and every insult that existed, reaches the sky. Eiji rushes instinctively to the rails to check, and sure enough, there's an angry boy of smoldering red and harsh blond facing Ms. Shiraishi with his lip curled, voice dripping with venom. Lo and behold, he recognizes the fiery, furious figure from anywhere as the kid who punched him on the first day of school. _No wonder he's barely seen him at school_ , Eiji slowly realizes in dread.

Gotou, who was the first to recover from the shock of the sight, is already reaching for the stairs, ignoring the nearby elevator. By the time all of them run to Ms. Shiraishi, the blond delinquent is in the midst of yelling at the guard for irresponsibly letting "this woman" in. "But she says she's your teacher," the guard insists dubiously, confused.

"Bullshit," hisses Ankh, tossing the plastic bag he is holding off to the side. "This hag has been annoying me recently."

This causes the guard to eye Ms. Shiraishi suspiciously. Eiji's mouth drops open, and he runs to cover the blunder before his teacher is falsely accused of something Dr. Maki would be a dead ringer for, like molestation.

"Excuse me," Gotou quickly cuts in before anyone can say anything, wedging himself between the guard and Ms. Shiraishi. "I am Shintarou Gotou, the class president of Ms. Shiraishi's class at Ouzu High School. We apologize for the disturbance we are causing." He sweeps a formal bow, prompting Eiji to follow, albeit fumbling in the process. From across the sidewalk, he sees a coin roll from the pile of groceries leaking from a bag, most likely belonging to Ankh.

"Ms. Shiraishi has only been doing a welfare check due to Ankh's truancy," he continues professionally as Eiji hangs onto his every word, in awe at how well-versed and composed he is. "Since he has been missing school from the beginning of the year, we have come to help him integrate in our class comfortably."

The corners of Ankh's mouth twitch in irritation as he tuts, flipping his bright curls away from his eyes with a toss of his head. The skull print on his black shirt hangs on his frame with an intimidating grin, and the garishly tacky jeans only seemed to burn brighter in red. While Ankh tries to straighten his disgusted expression, Eiji has trouble confirming whether he is smiling or not. One thing he knows for sure is that things are going to get ugly.

His predictions are right when Ankh launches himself into a tirade against Gotou. "That is the biggest steaming pile of crap I've come upon all my life," the blond snarls disdainfully, carefully sculpted bangs falling into his eyes again. "I don't recall having to ask for anything from _you_ low-life bastards." As he brings his reply to an end, he sends a challenging glare from his dark, hateful eyes in Gotou's direction, one so threatening that it makes the class representative visibly swallow in surprise. For a second, Eiji thinks that he's going to deck him in the eye, because it definitely looks like he can't leave without messing up his face somehow.

Fortunately, Gotou manages to keep his cool under all the pressure forced onto his shoulders. Maybe _too_ cool, as Eiji can feel an icy chill travel up his spine the moment he hears him sigh softly. "We're not looking for any trouble," Gotou informs his opponent calmly. "All we're asking is about 10 to 15 minutes of your time in a nonviolent confrontation."

In a blink of an eye, a blur of gold and red swerves past Eiji, flashstepping across the pavement with hawk-like agility. Shock instantly crosses Gotou's expression and he finds himself pulled towards Ankh's burning gaze by the collar of his shirt, faces so close he can feel his murderous breath. "I don't think you're getting it," grumbles Ankh viciously, articulating every single syllable carefully. " _Kindly_ get the fuck out. _Don't_ make me have to tell you again."

Ankh's actions do little do intimidate him. "I can't do that," says Gotou tensely, refusing to break his stare he's holding at his annoyed face.

Naturally, Ankh does not take this well. Displeased, he tuts and violently gives him a hard shake. " _Say that again to my face, asshole!_ " he screams into his face.

This time, Gotou has no idea how to react, and his eyes widen in panic, voice straining for words to alleviate Ankh's explosive anger. The fear in his eyes alarmingly whacks Eiji with a flashback of Ankh's fist flying towards his own face and the next thing he knows, he's jumping in to dislodge his talons from Gotou's throat. A voice that sounds like his is yelling for Ankh to stop, and Eiji's not sure if it's himself that's saying this. Everything is too fast for him to process and it's as if he forgot about the fact that Ankh gave him a bloody nose during their last unpleasant encounter.

Ankh, unfortunately, interprets Eiji's intervention as a sign of threat and only tightens his grip while his other arm winds back to fling a punch at his offender. " _Don't touch me!_ " he screeches, death stare targeted at his opponent from under the curtain of his golden fringe, struggling furiously at Eiji's restraint. No sooner, Eiji's assisted by everyone else in a loud tug-of-war for Gotou's dear life, each voice escalating into a crescendo. Under the suffocating yells for Ankh to stop, he hears Ankh wince in pain, and within the blur of the crowd, there's a hand clamped tightly around his wrist, pulling his drawn fist around his back. The next thing Eiji knows, he sees Hina slip past him to help the guard put Ankh in his place.

After several tries, Eiji finally loosens Gotou free from his clenched grip. The perpetrator, on the other hand, is pulled away by the guard, thrashing and flailing under his grasp as Gotou stumbles back into Ms. Shiraishi's arms. It's only when everyone except for Ankh starts to quiet down that Eiji can hear himself breathe heavily. A second later, he realizes his throat is sore from all the yelling and hears his pulse drumming in his ears. Feeling his breathing slow, he takes in the fact that his classmate luckily managed to leave the conflict unscathed.

Immediately, Eiji rushes to Gotou's side with no heed to any thoughts of how much Gotou hated him and didn't want to talk to him. "Pres, are you okay?" he asks hoarsely, as the class president is lifted to his feet by Hina and Ms. Shiraishi.

Though frazzled and a bit dazed, Gotou seems to have recovered in no time, because Eiji recognizes a hint of his normally arrogant personality as he straightens his collar with a cough. He acknowledges his concern with a (still unfriendly) brief nod, but doesn't say anything more. Maybe it's a good thing he's not speaking, Eiji considers, because no one has an inkling of what Ankh would do next.

Eiji turns his attention towards the boy in question, who has managed to shake the guard off his back. Ankh shoots the man a stink eye as he clutches his shoulder possessively, as if merely touching him was considered one of the most heinous crimes in the world. His immaculate locks fall messily in front of his eyes before he notices that Eiji is looking at him.

"And what the hell do _you_ want?" roars Ankh, his brows furrowing into a frown. "Haven't you and your pansy shit-faced accomplices caused enough damage for today?"

As a figure of authority, Ms. Shiraishi quietly steps in to take the brunt of his rage, unwilling to allow any more of her students become victims to his wrath. " _Ankh_ —" she starts carefully, consciously attempting to keep her voice gentle. The way Ankh briskly storms forward, each step booming on the ground like a series of dangerous thunderclaps, is more than enough to eradicate any word she is about to articulate.

"Is gray your favorite color?" Ankh interrupts, narrowing his eyes. "Do you _like_ gray?"

" _Wha_ —" Ms. Shirashi is about to ask, but the boy continues.

"I _hope_ you like gray," clarifies Ankh, eyes boring into her own, "because I will put your ass in a jumpsuit if you don't _leave_. I heard stripes are also in fashion in case you're self-conscious about your new look."

Noticing the uneasiness reflected in Ms. Shiraishi's doe-like expression, Eiji is fed up with Ankh's rampage. "What's your _problem_?" he demands. "Why are you doing this?" Ankh's attention instantly switches to him, and Eiji stops dead in his tracks. Biting his lip, he quickly blushes when he remembers the purpose of his presence and brings his voice down as he amends, "We're not picking a fight with you, honest. We don't want to fight. We're on your side." Despite the calamity in his voice, Eiji feels his pulse trembling again, and feels his entire face heat up, desperately hoping that Ankh won't pounce at him. He knows he's already on his bad side, and he doesn't want to make it worse, for the last thing he needs in the world is a lifelong enemy.

A moment of silence passes before his attempt at mediation successfully leaves Ankh motionless, and Eiji reads it as an okay to continue. To further avoid conflict, he slowly steps forward with a polite bow, forcing the best sunny smile he can manage under this situation. "I-I'm Eiji Hino," he introduces himself awkwardly. "Nice to meet you. We got off on a bad start, but we can forget about it. Right?"

Ankh ignores him and slacks his shoulders, rolling eyes. He probably doesn't see him as a threat, Eiji believes, or at least finds him unworthy of a pummeling. Nevertheless, he feels his breath audibly leave him as he discovers that he has been holding his breath the entire time.

"Huh," Ankh scoffs, unamused. "I don't care who the fuck you are. If you're not looking for trouble, do me a favor." He whips his arm towards the exit defiantly. "Get out of here. _Get out_."

Well, so much for that. Eiji sucks in his cheeks, unable to say anything else. From behind him, Hina pulls Ms. Shiraishi into a hushed whisper. "It doesn't look like he wants to speak to us," she observes nervously. "What should we do?"

"Even if he doesn't," suggests Gotou with absolute determination, speaking for the first time since nearly being assaulted by Ankh, "he needs to understand how important our conversation is."

"Pres..." Hina looks at him warily.

"It's not going to do any good if he's in a bad mood right now," Eiji mentions, joining the conversation. "He probably feels like we're ganging up on him. We should try again later..."

"We can't put this off, Hino!" groans Gotou disapprovingly. "It's only a matter of time until the school formally dismisses him." Contrary to his determination, something about the way he speaks about this issue makes Eiji feel as though Gotou isn't particularly against the expulsion, especially since it may save him from risking a black eye.

"In any case, he already feels threatened by us," Eiji reasons. Gotou frowns at him, but for the first time, he doesn't really care. "We should leave before someone really gets hurt."

"Until _when_? We came all this way and we haven't made the slightest bit in progress. You _do_ realize that if he doesn't come to school, it'll make Ms. Shiraishi look bad too." Gotou folds his arms with a huff.

Under all the pressure, Eiji understands that Gotou has a point, and they really can't waste a single second of their visit when Ankh may be kicked out of school and leave Ms. Shiraishi with a bad mark on her record. At the same time, it's clear that at this point, Ankh is unmanagable. With a sigh, Eiji figures that he might as well put his neck into the noose since he's basically already dug his grave by vouching for approaching the offender later: "I'll deal with him when he's not as upset," he volunteers reluctantly. He'd better start preparing a first-aid kid to bring with him 24/7 from now on.

At last, Ms. Shiraishi tentatively agrees, "Perhaps it's for the best." Turning politely to the guard and Ankh, she calls, "We'll visit another time. Thank you for your cooperation!"

While she exchanges embarrassed bows with the guard, Gotou grudgingly files up to exit the gates of the apartment complex, followed by a relieved Hina. Eiji is about to leave with them, but swivels on his heel and waves at Ankh, trying to keep a friendly front in front of the smoldering boy. He might as well, because he's going to be the one accompanying Ms. Shiraishi to deal with Tall, Blond, and Angry within the next few days. "See you later!" he yells with a half-hearted grin, though Ankh only tuts and rolls his eyes at him again.

* * *

Once the group is gone from sight, Ankh rolls up his sleeves, dusting himself off from the scuffle from earlier with an exasperated sigh.

"You really went too far there, kid," calls the guard, who has returned to his post. "They seemed like really nice people."

Without missing a beat and turning back to look at him, Ankh clicks his teeth. "Shut up. No one was talking to you." He bends down to collect his groceries from his trip to the convenience store, which he had tossed aside during the encounter with the not-so-fantastic four. The medal that had slipped from his bag has traveled across the ground, its journey halted by a curb bordering a line of bushes, and Ankh stops to cradle it delicately in his palm, examining it for scratches.

Apparently, the guard isn't taking Ankh's words very seriously, for he is wondering out loud, "Why aren't you in school, anyways?"

Ankh shoots back with an inquiry of his own. "How much do you earn a month?"

The sudden question leaves the guard blinking in confusion. "Uh, excuse me?" he stammers, trying to catch onto the conversation.

A sigh (that sounded more like a brash croak) escapes Ankh's throat as he rolls his eyes. "Your fucking _salary_. Do I have to spell it out for you? It's not a hard question."

" _Well_ —"

Ankh cuts him off before he even makes a coherent reply. " _Obviously_ too much for what a _shitty job_ you're doing!" he screeches, swinging one of his long legs in a winded kick at the guard's booth for emphasis.

Without another word to that, he strides away before the guard can protest, storming three stories up the building and flouncing straight into his room. Slamming the door behind him with a loud thud, he rummages his pockets for his medal again, only to come upon a popsicle stick he forgot to discard. Noticing that the stick was missing a "winner" imprint on one of its ends, Ankh disgustedly snaps it in half and throws it into the trash can.

 _Another day wasted_.


End file.
